


The Wrath Returns

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [45]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman: Gotham Knights (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Alfred POV, Bat Family, Canon-Typical Violence, Companionable Snark, Family Dynamics, Gen, Jason has a potty mouth, No Romance, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 09:26:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15969482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: When there's a quiet breakout at Blackgate, an old enemy returns and Alfred gets a first-hand view of how Jason and Tim work as a team and under presser. Watching them in action is both beautiful and terrifying and he is incredibly proud of the two boys. When Bruce returns in the middle of it all, he has to opportunity to offer some guidance. After all, Alfred was the adopted father of a genius vigilante long before Bruce was.





	The Wrath Returns

It had all sounded innocent enough. 

Tim made a generous donation at a charity event that he’d attended in Bruce’s place and made some very respectable (and influential) comments to the press at said event. The coordinators of the event wanted to thank him, so they gave him four tickets to a ballet in Blüdhaven because they heard the Wayne family had taken an interest in the art. He thought it would be nice to give the tickets to Cassandra to go with whoever she wanted. Her friends aren’t very interested in ballet and she knows Tim and Jason would be very busy in Gotham, so she decided to invite their father and youngest brother to go with her and Dick. Damian was very excited (in his own way) to go with them. Jason and Tim assured their father that they would patrol all of Gotham that night and call in one of their friends if they needed backup for any reason.

It was very practical and true to character all around.

However, when you raised the boy that would become Batman and then helped raise each of his children, you developed a sixth sense for recognizing when said children were plotting something. Alfred’s ‘hidden strategy in motion’ flags were raised. 

He waited until Bruce and Damian left for Blüdhaven before contacting Tim to ask what he was conniving. The fact that Tim and Jason were already on their way to the Batcave when he called was enough confirmation that they were, in fact, up to something. He met them in the Batcave when they arrived. 

“Master Jason, Master Tim.” He greeted them both, looking them over for any sign of injury and finding none. However, the tension in Jason’s muscles and slightly preoccupied look to Tim’s eyes told him that something was wrong and they were already working on it. “Why did you remove your father and brother from Gotham tonight?”

Tim didn’t make any attempt to deny it. Alfred appreciated the show of respect. The boy’s immediate answer was simple and to the point. “The Wrath escaped from Blackgate.”

Alfred was instantly concerned. The original Wrath had put him in the hospital after discovering Batman’s true identity and infiltrating the Manor. He had also forced Bruce to hand over Jim Gordon and chose to die rather than let Batman save him after the resulting fight. His grown protégé, the Wrath’s Robin proxy, had taken the mantle after his mentor’s demise. He had not only managed to surprise Batman, but had nearly killed both Dick and Jim Gordon as well. If the sociopath had escaped from Blackgate, it was safe to assume he was coming after Batman again. 

Alfred didn’t like the idea of _any_ members of his family facing off with that man, but he understood why Tim would think it best to remove Bruce and Damian from Gotham. The Wrath had gotten too close before, had managed to throw Batman off just enough to slip past him. If Dick, as the recently christened Nightwing, hadn’t returned to Gotham at the first sign of trouble, or if he and his father didn’t work as well together as they did, the fight very easily could have gone the other way. 

Tim had apparently reached the same conclusion.

“Bruce and Damian don’t fight like Bruce and Dick used to. They don’t have the same odds against him. By all accounts, he’s grown even more distant from his emotions while incarcerated, so the same tricks likely won’t work on him. Bruce on the other hand, has grown more open to his emotions. Damian is too emotional and too self-confident. Put the three of them together, with how much the Wrath knows about Batman, and he’ll have the upper hand.” 

Alfred noted that Jason had disappeared further into the Cave while Tim explained and checked something on the Bat-Computer. “I trust you have a plan?”

He could hear Jason scoff from somewhere near where they kept the spare suits. “When does he _not_ have a plan?”

Tim wore the tiniest of grins, even as he called back to his big brother. “You know, one of these days I’m not going to have a plan and we’re going to be screwed.”

Jason called back, not sounding concerned in the least. “Naw, I’ll just shoot the bad guys ‘till you come up with one. We’re good at thinking on the fly.”

While he enjoyed hearing the easy communication between the two boys he used to worry over the most of his surrogate grandchildren, Alfred had other concerns at the moment. “What _is_ your plan, Master Tim?”

“The Wrath might know plenty about Bruce, but he doesn’t know anything about Jason or me. So when we trigger the trap he’s set for Batman and Robin, the odds will be in our favor.” Tim must have seen the confusion in Alfred's face, because he didn’t have to ask how they intended to trigger the trap when the Wrath would likely only come out to face Batman. Tim answered the unspoken query by motioning behind him. 

When Alfred turned, he found himself standing face to face with Batman.

Dick had worn the suit a few times before. He wore it well and performed the part well. However, he was four inches shorter than his father and, though muscular, lacked his bulk. He also was more prone to smiling, showing affection, aerial movement, and keeping his face clean-shaven. To someone who saw Batman fairly often, it was rather easy to tell it was a different man behind the cowl. 

Jason was scarcely an inch shorter than his father and was just as broad and bulky. He wasn’t as prone to smiling or showing affection as his big brother. He shared his father’s predilection for stubble and keeping his feet on the ground. It would take weeks for even Jim Gordon to tell that he wasn’t _the_ Batman, providing Jason refrained from shooting anyone. The Wrath wouldn’t know the difference until Jason had him exactly where he and Tim wanted him. 

“The Wrath will try to throw Batman off again-” 

Alfred turned when he noticed that Tim’s voice sounded far away. The boy was no longer standing behind him. He’d moved for the spare suits as well and was explaining as he changed. 

“-But he’ll be aiming for _Bruce’s_ weak points. Any dates or suggestions of failure he throws out aren’t going to effect Jason. He’ll be expecting Bruce’s fighting styles, and probably Damian’s, if he’s done his homework.” Tim returned, dressed as Robin. He was slightly taller, significantly paler, and had notably longer hair than Damian, but with the hood up it was close enough to fool a Rogue (especially one who’d never encountered either boy before) until it was too late. “He won’t be prepared for _us_.”

Jason crossed his arms and smirked. “The jackass won’t know what hit him until its too late to back out.”

Alfred still wasn’t pleased by the thought of the boys facing the Wrath, but he honestly thought they’d played this one correctly. They were right to think they could fool the man. They were right to think they had much better odds of defeating him than Bruce and Damian. Their father never would have allowed it, and Damian would never have agreed to sit out on such a powerful adversary without a fight that would ultimately waste time with such a dangerous villain on the loose. Getting them out of Gotham and sending them somewhere that required phones to be turned off had been smart. 

He looked them both over once more and then gave a small nod. “Well done, both of you.”

They both smiled briefly, then an alarm went off on the Bat-Computer. Tim checked it. “That’s him.”

“Right on schedule.” Jason was heading toward the Batmobile. “He where we expected?”

“Yeah.” Tim adjusted his gauntlets, which he’d clearly made to match the Robin suit and brought along, because Alfred didn’t recognize them. Then he moved to join his big brother. He spoke to Alfred as he hopped into the vehicle. “Screen four should cover the fight, if he’s leading us where we think he is.”

After that, the two boys were enclosed in the Batmobile, which started up and sped out of the Batcave. 

Alfred went to the Bat-Computer right away. The screen Tim had named showed live footage from a security camera that he’d apparently hacked while explaining their reasoning. It fit the Wrath’s motives to try to bring the fight somewhere where it could be exposed to an extent, later, after he was sure it had gone to plan. He wanted to disgrace Batman in addition to ending him. Showing his defeat to all of Gotham would do that. 

It also meant that -thanks to Tim’s computer skills- Alfred would be able to watch the fight. He would know the moment it went wrong or the moment it was over. He appreciated that. One of the worst parts of having a family full of vigilantes was not knowing if they were in need of assistance or not. Ever since Bruce returned from his ill-fated fight with Darkseid, the family had mostly returned to the shadows. It meant that he couldn’t rely on news footage or any media to tell him what was going on in real time and Bruce wasn’t often able to fill him in as he was fighting. 

The kids never did, but were willing to check in whenever Alfred requested it. He appreciated that.

He began to prepare the medical station as he waited, just in case. 

Soon enough, the Bat-Computer signaled motion on the live security footage. Alfred saw the Wrath on the rooftop. Almost immediately afterwards, Jason and Tim joined him. Jason moved like his father, what little could be seen of his expression matched his father’s perfectly. The Wrath appeared to be monologuing, trying to press Batman’s buttons and growing frustrated when he wasn’t getting as strong a reaction as he’d expected. Likely assuming he hadn’t been the only one to toughen up a little in the five years since they last encountered each other, the Wrath clearly started pressing harder. 

Finally, the attack came. The fight that followed was both terrifying and beautiful. 

Jason and Tim started out moving as Bruce and Damian would, but those motions seamlessly flowed into their own fighting style. The Wrath plainly didn’t know what was happening or how to counter it. Bruce always held back at the start of a fight, even more so when he was encountering an enemy for the first time. He didn’t want to do more damage than necessary. The same wasn’t true of Jason. The first blow clearly caught the Wrath by surprise as it cracked his chest armor.

Jason and Tim fought well together. They moved in sync and supported one another just as well as Bruce and Dick. One would draw the Rogue’s attention and then the other would strike instantly. Their timing was impeccable. They didn’t appear to react to anything the Wrath was saying as they fought, instead focusing on bringing him down.

Jason was, and had always been, a natural brawler. Taking a punch from him was like being hit with a mallet, and he rarely only struck once. Timothy had always been a blend of skill and intelligence. His strategy was fluid and you never saw the blow that would count coming. Alfred had never tried to imagine what the two of them fighting together like this would look like, but Jason’s raw power and Tim’s focused creativity blended together perfectly. The Wrath wasn’t prepared for Jason’s brutality and Tim’s precision. 

The Rogue did get in a few solid blows. Fights were dirty and chaotic, no one could expect to come out of one, especially one such as the battle Alfred was watching, entirely unscathed. At one point, it looked at though Tim had made an error -or had taken a risk- that gave the Wrath an advantage. Either way, Tim moved in far too close. He wasn’t strong enough to grapple with the larger man he was fighting. 

However, by design or skill alone, the Wrath only got in one good strike before Jason dropped to one knee and punched him in the leg. Dropping to his knee in pain threw the Rogue off enough that Tim was able to deftly twist out of his grasp, pulling the Wrath’s helmet off in the process. That naturally caused the Wrath to turn to him again, but he was struck with Tim’s bo staff before he could reach the boy. That was immediately followed by Jason’s fist striking his face. Then Tim struck him in the back, causing him to raise his head for Jason to punch again. They continued making openings for each other until Jason finally knocked the Rogue unconscious with one last punch. 

Tim handcuffed the Wrath while Jason appeared to contact Gordon. They fired their grapples and flew off into the night just as Jim and several other officers arrived at the scene. 

The comm crackled to life shortly afterwards. Jason even sounded the way his father did while in the Batsuit. “The Wrath is on his way back to Blackgate. We’re going to see he gets there and then finish patrol. You don’t have to wait up.”

It didn’t make any sense for them to return to the Batcave, change into their usual suits, and then head back out to fight crime, only to have to change again when they called it a night sometime early the next morning. It also made sense to let a few criminals spread stories of Batman and Robin being out that night, especially while Bruce and Damian Wayne were out of town. Despite all of that, Alfred was surprised that the boys weren’t taking the time to change into their own vigilante identities. They had both fought hard for their independence, had to fight more than most to claim their own identities, and neither of them possessed any desire to be Batman. Patrolling as Batman and Robin meant that they had either already started detecting crimes and refused to risk letting any slip past them by stopping to change, or they were doing it for their father and brother. 

Either way, Alfred was proud of them. 

“Nonsense. I shall see you when you return, and be here should you require any assistance in the interim.” 

Jason didn’t use the Batman voice when he replied quickly. “Thanks, Agent A.”

Alfred smiled. “Always, Sir.”

That earned him a laugh. 

Not long after, ‘Batman’ spoke again. “The Wrath is in Blackgate. Robin’s already interfering in an assault. Might be a long night.”

Considering Gotham usually had at least twice as many vigilantes focusing on it as it did that night, Alfred suspected it was. He wondered if he’d have any luck in getting the boys to simply sleep at the Manor and head home after they’d rested and eaten. He doubted it, but he’d try. 

The rest of the night went well by Gotham’s standards. Batman and Robin stopped dozens of crimes, including an armed robbery and a kidnapping attempt. They were never caught on camera. They didn’t stop to talk to the police unless necessary. It was almost like it had been years ago, when most people guessed at whether the Dark Knight was real or not and told stories as if he were a specter watching over the city. Still, none of the rumors or reports suggested that they weren’t the ‘real’ Batman and Robin.

Shortly after two in the morning, the silent alarms alerted Alfred to a car coming up the drive. A quick check of their security cameras showed it was Bruce and Damian returning home. Bruce steered the half-asleep teenager into the Manor before giving up and just carrying the boy up the stairs to his room. He checked Alfred’s room, frowned when he failed to locate the man, and then headed down to the Batcave. 

“Alfred, are you down here?”

Alfred put his tea down and turned to face the other man as he made his way toward the Bat-Computer. “Yes, Master Bruce. I was just standing by in case my services were needed.”

“Is something wrong?” 

Alfred was pleased to note that Bruce sounded more like a father worrying after his children than Batman worrying over his city. 

“Quite the contrary, Master Bruce. Everything is coming along rather well tonight. How did you enjoy the ballet?”

Bruce had been looking at the Bat-Computer as he approached, frowning. He glanced at Alfred upon registering the question. “What? Oh, it was lovely. The kids really enjoyed it, especially Cassandra. Damian was curious to know more about one of his sister’s interests. He and Dick asked her about several of the movements and even tried learning a couple from her during intermission.”

He motioned toward the Bat-Computer, which was clearly monitoring Batman and Robin’s location and physical conditions. “Is that Jason and Tim?”

“Yes, Sir. They are out patrolling, as usual. The night has been somewhat busier than average, with it being only the two of them. Of course, there’s also the full moon to take into consideration. However, they have been performing admirably and with exceptional success.”

Bruce was still frowning. “Why is the Bat-Computer listing Batman and Robin’s code instead of Red Hood’s and Red Robin’s? Is there a glitch or did they shut us out again?” He looked bothered by that last possibility. It looked like he was trying to think if he’d done anything that might have upset or offended one of them recently.

The boys had demanded some space a while back, after the last traumatic encounter with the Joker, and their father’s less than ideal response to it. During that time, they had put forth a gallant effort in ensuring that their father couldn't keep track of them the way he did his other children. They’d come around not long ago, so Alfred thought it was fair enough that Bruce would express some concern, even if they hadn’t had any further fallouts since then. 

Alfred quickly assured him. “Neither, Master Bruce. They even made an exceptional effort to ensure I could keep watch on them tonight. Circumstances came about that required them to borrow your identities for the evening.”

“What?” Bruce immediately looked at Alfred. “You’re telling me _Jason_ is...”

“Proving himself to be a perfectly suitable Dark Knight, yes.” Alfred completed the statement when Bruce appeared too shocked to do it himself. “He’s even refrained from shooting anyone all night. I’ll have to make that Aztec hot chocolate cake he’s fond of the next time they have dinner with us to reward his efforts.”

Bruce appeared to still be taking in the fact that Jason was filling in as Batman. He looked concerned, confused, and more caught off guard than Alfred had seen in years. He continued to study the Bat-Computer’s readings.

“And Tim?” Bruce looked at one of Tim’s Robin suits that he still had out on display. The one he’d worn before Robin was taken from him. The boy hadn’t been the same since. “He’s okay dressing as Robin again?”

“He did not have the opportunity to dwell on it, Master Bruce.” Alfred ensured that his tone was his usual calm cadence. Otherwise, Bruce would be making plans in his version of a panic before Alfred was halfway done filling him in. “The Wrath escaped from Blackgate. Batman and Robin promptly returned him.”

A thousand thoughts, responses, and scenarios passed through Bruce’s eyes before he responded. “When did this happen?”

Alfred chose to ignore the fact that the man had essentially just growled at him. After all, the Wrath had temporarily made his fear that he might lose another one of his children seem like a real possibility before. “I do not know when he escaped, but the boys informed me of it shortly after you left and the Rogue was recaptured earlier this evening.” Alfred held his gaze. “As I stated, it has already been handled. Quite capably, I might add.”

Bruce registered that the threat had passed. He checked his sons’ medical stats on the Bat-Computer, assuring himself that they were alright. Relief briefly fluttered across his features before his expression turned angry. “Why wasn’t I called back? The Wrath is one of the most dangerous Rogues in Blackgate and he specifically targets us. I should have been here.” 

“If you had been needed, Master Bruce, I assure you, I would have contacted you.” Alfred gestured toward the Bat-Computer. “Master Jason and Master Tim had it well in hand. They rightly believed that they would have the upper hand against the Wrath, whereas that might not have been the case were you to return to fight him. I saved a copy of the security footage for you before Master Tim could access it by remote and delete it.”

“Security footage?” That caused Bruce’s anger to drift back to concern. Jason and Tim avoided being caught on video more than any other members of the family. For them to allow it likely meant they had either feared they’d need the backup or they hadn’t had time to take out the camera. 

Alfred loaded up the video as he explained. “It appears the Wrath wanted to be able to publicly humiliate you by showing your defeat after the fact. He made sure to lead Batman and Robin somewhere the fight would be secluded yet caught on video. Nothing that would make it online or to the GCPD before he knew the outcome, naturally. 

“Fortunately, Master Tim deduced the location before the fact and arranged for me to be able to keep an eye on things. He also erased it from the company that owns the camera afterwards. This is the only footage of it now.”

Bruce watched the fight with a multitude of emotions coursing over him. Most would have just seen him standing, muscles taught and face stern. Alfred knew him too well. 

He caught the way his arms flexed, wanting to somehow jump in and aid his children, even though the fight was already over. He heard the way his breath caught when the Wrath managed to get a hold of Tim. He saw the fear in his eyes when he saw Jason landing blow after blow to the Rogue’s unprotected face and damaged armor. He saw the relief in them when his son stopped before going too far. He saw the pride in them as he watched his sons fighting together. He saw the relief that flooded him when the fight was over and his sons were still standing. 

Alfred placed a hand on his surrogate son’s shoulder. “As you can see, Master Bruce, they were quite prepared and they knew what they were doing.”

“They were brilliant.” Bruce sounded truthful but torn. A different sort of agitated concern shown through as he continued. “But they still shouldn’t have taken on someone like the Wrath without any backup. They had to have known what he was capable of, if they knew to disguise themselves. They should have checked with me first.”

Alfred sighed and refrained from grinning. “I’m sorry to tell you, Sir, but I believe they are beyond the need to acquire your permission to defend their city or their family. As for backup, I was watching them all the while and they had already assured us that they would call in one of their friends if the need arose. After the events of the past year, I hardly imagine Master Conner, Master Bizarro, or Master Roy would hesitate to respond. If they called upon either of the former, I suspect their father would have come as well.

“Moreover, they weren’t taking him on alone. They had each other.” Alfred gestured toward the monitor, which Bruce had set to play the fight again. “Clearly, that was all they needed. Which, really, shouldn’t come as any surprise.”

Alfred gave Bruce a pointed look. “After all, you and Master Dick persevered despite not having backup at the start of all this. Besides myself and Dr Thompkins, of course. Master Jason and Master Tim have us as well. They also have the advantage of their combined training and experience, as well as the lessons passed to them from your own experience, and each of their other teachers.”

Bruce was still watching the fight and occasionally glancing at Jason and Tim’s current stats. “Its harder than I thought it would be. Watching them grow up. Letting them go. Leaving them to face the dangers I know are out there. Capable or not, they’re still my children, Alfred.”

Alfred watched the man he had raised with empathy. “Believe me, Master Bruce, I understand entirely.”

His adopted son sighed quietly. “I never thought about what it might be like for you. Watching us go. Waiting for us to return.” Bruce still didn’t look away from the Bat-Computer, from the only thing he had to tell him what was happening with his children. “I don’t know what I could have done differently, but I hope you know I- That I never meant to...”

Alfred decided to let him off the hook when he appeared to get stuck on the words. “I know, Sir. It is alright. I have been honored to watch over you and your children.” He worried over each of them, dreadfully at times, but he was always proud of them. 

And he never regretted agreeing to raise Bruce after his parents passed. He never regretted jumping in feet first to assist in raising Bruce’s children later on. He never regretted assisting them in any way he could as they fulfilled what appeared to truly be their united destiny. He never would. He loved his family, challenges and all.

“What did Tim just do?” Bruce frowned at the footage of the fight against the Wrath. It was at the end of the battle. He backed it up and replayed the part when Tim had cuffed the Wrath while Jason contacted Gordon. “He does something while he’s restraining him. Its quick but...right there.”

Alfred turned his attention to the video. It had been a lovely moment but apparently it was time to focus on their never ending crusade again. He wasn’t surprised and at least the focus on his children was a reminder that Bruce wasn’t fighting it alone anymore. Alfred took a great deal of comfort and relief in that fact. 

Plus, it always interesting to see Bruce respond to his children. His paternal side was Alfred’s favorite aspect of him.

Alfred watched the footage closely. Tim’s fingers swiftly moved over the Wrath’s wrist as he attached the handcuffs. “I assume he was taking the villain’s pulse.”

“With Robin’s gloves on?” Bruce didn’t sound convinced. 

“Those are _his_ gloves and gauntlets, Master Bruce. With all of the technology Master Tim packs into his suits, I would not be surprised in the least if he had a sensor that allowed him to check a pulse without removing his gloves.” Alfred considered that if he didn’t, he should make the suggestion to the boy. If he did (or once he did), then he would request that they all have the technology added to their suits. It would save time when one of them was injured and add additional protection to their identities by not requiring them to remove their gloves for such instances.

Bruce moved the video to another program where he could make adjustments. The quality was fairly poor, so there was only so much he could do. “He _is_ checking his pulse, you’re right, but that’s not _all_ he’s doing. I think he just took a sample of his blood.” He frowned at the adjusted footage. “Why would he do that?”

“You know, there is a fascinating new concept that might benefit you here, Sir. The kids call it _asking_.” Bruce looked at him side-eyed. Alfred arched a brow. “Are you going to try it or shall I? I’m certain Master Tim will be agreeable to giving it a whirl.” 

Bruce shook his head and hit the comm switch. “Re-” He corrected himself in a fraction of a second. “ _Robin_.”

Jason swore quietly but with a good deal of passion. Meanwhile, Tim’s voice was level when he responded. “Agent B?”

Bruce frowned. 

“Well he can’t very well call you ‘Batman’ while he’s out there _with Batman_ and he certainly can’t call you by your given name.” Alfred reasoned. Then he decided to explain the ‘B’ part, his tone dry. “I’ve already been given the title of ‘Agent A’, so you’ll have to make do with being ‘Agent B’ unless you wish to fight to the death over such a thing.”

Tim spoke again before Bruce could answer beyond a small smirk. 

“Agent B, are you there?”

Bruce responded before his son could worry. “Yes. I was just going over the footage of the Wrath’s capture earlier-”

Jason’s voice interrupted, he seemed to just have his comm open rather than having purposefully responded to them. “Damn it, Agent A…” 

Alfred deftly pressed the comm. “Language, Batman.”

“Sorry, A.” Jason continued afterwards, clearly speaking to Tim over the open line. “I told you we should have just disabled the camera.”

“And I told you why that might not be the best idea. We agreed.” Tim answered his brother before addressing Bruce again. “Agent B, was there something about the capture you needed to ask about?”

Jason chimed in. “And it better be important ‘cause we're kinda busy here.”

Bruce paused for just a second, considering whether his question was important enough to ask while they were out fighting crime. “Did you take a sample of the Wrath’s blood?”

Tim didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes. He took too many blows from Batman before dropping. Even taking adrenaline and the fact that he’s a sociopath into consideration, he should have gone down sooner. I want to find out why he didn’t. My gauntlets already broke down the sample and sent the data for the computer to check out.”

“You’re right. He appears stronger than the last time, too.” Bruce commented while looking over the fight footage once more. 

Neither Jason nor Tim had been around the last time, so they couldn’t really speak to that. Tim at least tried to address it. “He definitely hit harder than I would have expected a standard man his size to.”

Bruce frowned and checked Tim’s stats again. There wasn’t anything standing out as a problem. Then he checked the Bat-Computer for the blood analysis Tim had mentioned. “I don’t see the blood analysis anywhere.”

“No, I sent it the Red-Compuer. My gear was already linked to it.” That was offered as an explanation, but there was a touch of apology to his tone. “We’ve already ruled out a metahuman gene and found a chemical enhancer. I’m breaking it down as we speak. We should have an answer soon.”

Bruce looked torn again. Alfred understood. He hated being idle almost as much as he hated not knowing what was going on or not feeling in control. However, he couldn’t very well demand that Tim send him the information. Tim’s computer was just as fast and capable as the Bat-Computer. It would waste time while Tim was patrolling to have him send it just so Bruce could watch the progress bar and possibly get the answer a few seconds sooner if Tim was too busy to inform him right away. 

Alfred could practically _see_ Bruce looking for an excuse to have it sent to him anyway and simultaneously berating himself for doing so when he knew it would make Tim doubt himself or whether his father had any confidence in him. He frowned in disapproval when Bruce hit the comm again.

“Send me the data. You’re out on patrol. I’m not. I can respond to it faster when the the results come thought.”

“He can handle it, Master Bruce.” Alfred reminded him. 

“I know that.” Bruce growled out the response. Then he frowned. He released a breath. “I do...but I’m not doing anything and once we find out what the Wrath took, we need to figure out how he got it. We need to figure out if he got it in Blackgate and if there’s a possibility more inmates have access to it.”

“And you imagine that Master Timothy and Master Jason can’t do that?” Alfred arched his brows in question. “Are the muggings and drug deals they’re stopping more important? Do you not handle specific cases while also patrolling the streets of Gotham as you are able? Did Master Tim not do the same since before he’d even entered his teens?”

“This isn’t about control, Alfred, not entirely.” Bruce sighed. He leaned back in the chair and looked at Alfred. “This is about my mistakes. You’re right. Tim has been in this just as deep as I ever was since the start.

“Without meaning to, I nearly turned him into the worst version of myself. The one you always feared I’d become. The one who completely shut himself off from the world in his attempt to save it. The one who was alone, buried in this work until he died. He’s finally turning away from that path. I don’t want him to get diverted from this new path before he’s clear of that one.”

The Bat-Computer alerted them that it had received the requested data. Tim said nothing. When Bruce opened the file, they found Tim had arranged it so the Bat-Computer would automatically start running it upon opening. There was nothing for Bruce to do but wait for it to finish. Alfred had no doubt that Tim still had his computer working on it too, and he would be notified of the results immediately anyway.

Sure enough, Tim spoke the answer at the same time the Bat-Computer gave an alert. 

“Venom. Low dose. Not enough for him to become dependent.”

“Do we know how the Wrath escaped?” Bruce appeared to ask out of habit, even as he started looking into Blackgate’s records.

Tim answered before he could access anything of significance. “He overcame the guards during his mandatory yard time. He broke his shackles somehow -its being treated as an equipment malfunction- and scaled the fence. They assumed he drowned, which is why there wasn’t any notable alert issued.”

“He must have gotten it while he was inside.” Jason’s Batman voice entered the conversation then. “Looks like we need to check out Blackgate.”

Bruce checked the time. “We only have a couple hours before sunrise.”

It sounded like Jason huffed out a breath against the mic in his cowl. “Right. Robin, you get into their records. I’ll interrogate the warden. We call it quits twenty minutes before dawn no matter what.”

“Maybe I should handle Blackgate.” Bruce was already unfastening his dress shirt. 

“We’re closer and there are two of us.” Jason countered. “Robin can download every record that so much as hints at the Wrath in that timespan and I’m perfectly capable of getting information from the warden. Besides, you don’t need any criminals seeing two Batmans together. It’ll ruin the mystique. Especially if one is being bitchy because the other isn’t listening to him.”

Bruce looked at Alfred as he moved to retrieve his Bat-Suit. “Is he the bitchy one in that scenario or am I?”

“I believe he’s suggesting you’ll become bitchy when he refuses to listen to you, Master Bruce.” Alfred couldn’t say the young man was wrong. 

Bruce swiftly changed and then spoke into the comm built into his suit. “I’m heading to Blackgate. You two continue with your plan. I’m going to question the Wrath.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jason managed to still sound like Batman, even as his vernacular was entirely his own. “Are you even out of the Cave yet? We’re almost _there_.”

“You don’t think that you interrogating the Wrath might give something away?” Tim sounded concerned and slightly agitated. 

Alfred didn’t blame either of the boys. They had put a good deal of effort into making sure the Wrath (and anyone else) never realized there was a different Batman out that night. Bruce questioning him as Batman so shortly after the Rogue had fought a different man in the cowl would likely give the ruse away. That would guarantee they couldn't pull off the same scheme again in the future with as much ease.

Myths about the Batman abounded, especially among the criminal population. They said he was an angel, a demon, a specter, a vampire, a metahuman, or an immortal warrior. If word spread around Blackgate the Batman wasn’t what they all feared, half of them might start taking bigger risks. 

Bruce considered his second youngest child’s concern, likely considering the same points that Alfred had. “Then I’ll take the warden.”

“Better.” Jason responded. It was clear by his tone, even when using the Batman voice, that he still wasn’t happy about it. But he wasn’t willing to waste time fighting when they were pressed for time and Bruce had made a somewhat acceptable concession. “I’ll take the Wrath. Robin will check the records…and handle the security feed.”

“Already on it.” Tim chimed in. “Agent B, let me know before you head in and out so I can cover you.”

That would also have the advantage of ensuring the two Batmans didn’t cross paths. A fact Alfred doubted hadn’t crossed Tim’s mind. 

“I will.” Bruce mounted his Bat-Cycle and spoke to Alfred directly before starting it up. “If Damian wakes up, tell him he has to stay in tonight. I don’t want him out alone and I definitely don’t want him showing up at Blackgate.”

“I shall prepare a sedative, just in case, Sir.” Alfred wore a small smile when Bruce huffed out a laugh as he headed off.

Again, Alfred waited. Infiltrating a place like Blackgate required silence, so he wasn’t concerned that he didn’t hear from any of them over comms beyond Tim stating his arrival and giving Jason a countdown to enter, followed later by Bruce informing Tim of when he’d reached the penitentiary and then, much later, when they coordinated their exits. 

He was still worried for Bruce, Jason, and Tim. A prisoner in Blackgate accessing venom was cause for concern no matter what the specifics turned out to be. 

Jason was the first to speak again. “We’re out, Agent A.”

Alfred felt the same relief he experienced at the end of any night his family went out like this. There were no serious injuries reported or particularly dangerous criminals known to be prowling the streets and dawn was on the horizon. All of which meant they were done for the evening and likely safe for another day.

He was tidying up the medical supplies he’d prepared earlier when Bruce spoke over the comms. 

“Rendezvous in the Batcave. I don’t like what I got from the warden. We’ll get a better picture of what’s happening if we compare notes.”

Jason sounded less like Batman and more like himself as he responded. “Really? We were planning to run off half-cocked, based on hearsay and circumstantial evidence, just like you taught us.”

Alfred couldn't help but think it was fair of Jason to complain about the order. He also couldn’t help but wonder how much of the boy’s sass was an inborn trait and how much of it was his own influence. 

Jason apparently took a breath and then spoke again, not wanting to start a fight. “Look, I know you like to be in control, but you’re jumping in late on this one. You need to respect that, or we’re gonna butt heads. That’s not going to help anyone.”

Alfred was proud of him. He understood the lack of response though. That wasn’t a conversation to have over comms. Jason and Tim clearly realized that too, as nether of them pressed their father to speak. Not that Tim usually did as of late, but Jason was normally all over it if their father was keeping to himself when he shouldn’t be. 

The boys arrived first. As soon as they exited the Batmobile, Jason asked Alfred to check Tim. 

His little brother rolled his eyes as he took off his mask. “I told you, I’m okay. They’re not even broken.”

That certainly merited some looking into. Alfred raised his brows. “If I may, _what_ exactly isn’t broken, Master Timothy?”

“His ribs.” Jason answered, sounding completely unapologetic, even when his little brother shot him a look that said he didn’t want to make such a big deal out of his injury. “The Wrath was hoped up on venom and he got in that punch when Timmy had to get close enough to get his helmet off so I could knock him out.” He looked at his little brother sternly. “I fucking _heard_ that blow.”

Tim looked a little less put out and a little more sympathetic at his big brother’s show of irritated concern. “Its just a couple of cracked ribs, Jay. We’ve all walked around with cracked ribs plenty of times. Thanks for the concern, but it isn’t a big deal.”

Jason’s expression suggested that he wasn’t going to drop the subject so easily.

Alfred wasn’t going to either. “If you wouldn’t mind, Master Timothy, a second opinion wouldn’t hurt. It will only take a moment to get an x-ray and I believe it will give your brother and myself some peace of mind to be certain they are only cracked. I can prepare the machine while you change out of that suit. Otherwise, I believe your brother intends to make a fuss-” 

Jason interjected quickly and vehemently. “You’re damn right I intend to make a fuss!”

“-And I can’t say I blame him.” Alfred didn’t bother correcting the language. He’d long since learned that when Jason was worried about a family member, expecting him to watch his language was a futile effort. 

“Fine. Prep the machine.” Tim didn’t sound enthusiastic about the check up, but clearly wasn’t going to argue with his big brother and Alfred on the subject. Not when they appeared genuinely concerned. He remembered his manners, at least. “Thank you, Alfie.”

“Thanks, Alfie.” Jason chimed as he headed off to change out of his borrowed Batsuit. Tim went with him to change out of the Robin suit. Alfred prepared the x-ray machine. He also set aside some painkillers, some bruise ointment, and prepared a hot water bottle. Heat usually was the most effective remedy against pain and swelling when Tim or Cassandra were injured, whereas cold packs worked better for Jason, Dick, Damian, or Bruce.

They took the x-rays first and were checking the results when Bruce arrived. 

“What’s going on here?” He looked at the x-ray on the monitor and then looked at his sons, frowning. “When did Tim crack his ribs?”

Jason answered first. “Tonight.”

Tim added, “Technically, the Wrath cracked them.” He suddenly looked curious. He indicated the unmarked x-ray as he addressed their father. “How did you know that was mine?”

“Between the Lazarus Pit and whatever technology Koriand’r brought to the Outsiders, Jason doesn’t have many visible reminders of healed injuries.” Bruce’s tone was clinical as he gestured over the x-ray. “This body shows far too many past injuries to be his. Its also too small. It could have been related to a case, but the spleen is missing, there’s damage to the breastbone -likely from you taking a Batarang to the chest-, and I remember when you tore your rotary cuff a few years ago. Clearly, this is yours.”

Tim looked impressed. Jason looked pleased. Alfred merely smirked lightly. He’d known for some time that Bruce could identify each of his children by x-ray, scar, or DNA sample. The unconventional father considered every injury they received a failure on his part and never forgot a single one. It was a little different now, with so many of them living on their own, but he still kept as close an eye on them as possible. 

Bruce ignored each of their reactions. “Have you taken anything for pain or swelling?”

“I have taken the liberty of preparing such treatments.” Alfred indicated the items he’d taken out while Tim changed. The boy thanked him and began treating himself without any further prompting. 

Jason caught their father’s attention while his little brother treated his cracked ribs under Alfred’s critical watch. “So you didn’t like what you got from the warden? Did it involve illegally testing small amounts of venom on the inmates to see if it would safely give the guards a boost?”

Bruce looked impressed. Or his version of impressed, at least. “That’s exactly what I learned. They were tired of so many of the inmates being superior to them in strength or skill, so they wanted to use venom to even out the odds a little. Naturally, their request was denied, so they decided to start illegal testing on some of the better behaved criminals.”

Jason nodded. “That fits with what the Wrath said and the summary Timbers gave me on the drive back. I can’t believe the idiots didn’t realize one of the inmates might use the boost to escape.” He looked both baffled and annoyed. “I mean, I’m not condoning what they did, but once they went for it, why not just keep the assholes in solitary until the venom wears off?”

Bruce gave a short nod to indicate that he understood what the boy meant. “I think they mistook the Wrath’s apathy for compliance. That’s another issue though, one that won’t matter once we stop these experiments. We need to find proof of how they got the venom. It likely came from evidence…or they intercepted it when someone was trying to smuggle it in to one of the prisoners. If we can learn where it came from, then between that and the blood analysis from the Wrath, Gordon should be able to shut them down and remove the warden and anyone else involved.”

Tim listened to his brother and father speak as he treated his injury, wincing almost imperceptibly as he applied the ointment to his bruised side. Alfred was going to comment that the boy should have waited until the painkillers had kicked in, but once he was done, Tim entered the conversation. “Uh, I don’t know what you found by means of proof, but we’ve already got enough evidence for Gordon to pull the plug. I just need to organize it a bit for him, since he’s always pressed for time.” 

Bruce narrowed in on the key point of that statement. “You already have solid evidence of what’s happening in Blackgate?”

Tim’s response was conversational. “Yeah. Why do you think I always go for the technology first? Even immoral experiments are only good if you keep records of failures and successes. Between knowing it was venom and what Jason got from the Wrath, it was easy to narrow a search for what we needed on the way here. We can already prove they stole the venom using an inside man at the GCPD, as well as which inmates they administered it to, when they did, and what the doses were.”

Jason wore a tiny, impressed smile. Bruce looked impressed and not exactly surprised, but certainly a little astounded at the swiftness in which his sons had handled this particular case. 

There was a beat of silence before Tim pulled an SD card out of his gauntlet and offered it to his father. “Do you want to give this to Gordon? He’s most comfortable working with you.” 

That wasn’t platitude. The boy was just trying to avoid making the commissioner uncomfortable, as was his nature. 

Tim’s motivation for heroics was his empathy. He couldn’t bear to leave anyone to suffer or endure harm when he could prevent it. Alfred often wondered if that was why the boy gave his father so much more slack than any of his siblings. He suspected that same empathy was why Tim rarely shared his burdens or fears with his father. It was Tim’s way of protecting him; of sparing him from potential suffering.

Sometimes, Alfred wished he wouldn’t.

When Bruce didn’t respond immediately, Tim spoke again, before the moment could grow awkward. “Or we could just drop it off on the way home. He's wary of Red Hood, but he works with Red Robin well enough.”

Alfred arched a brow. While Tim's assessment of the commissioner might be accurate, the Gotham City Police Department was not on the boys’ way home. No one commented on that fact. 

“No. I’ll take it.” Bruce finally said as he took the files. He kept his gaze on his sons as he did so. “You both did good work tonight.” 

“Aw, thanks Dad.” Jason’s expression was both grateful and irritated at once. His tone was somewhere between sarcastic and playful. “You know, we felt pretty confident too. Its almost like we’ve been doing this shit since we were kids.”

Tim wore the tiniest grin, like he was fighting a laugh, and immediately pressed the hot water bottle to his side. “Jay, don’t make me laugh.”

His big brother looked sympathetic. As Tim had pointed out earlier, each member of the family had dealt with cracked ribs before. “Sorry, Timbers.”

“You two should head home. Get some rest.” Bruce indicated the SD card Tim had given him. “I’ll take it from here.”

Jason put a hand on Tim’s back and started steering him toward the exit. He waved at Bruce and Alfred with his free hand. “Later.”

Tim spoke over his shoulder as he was ushered out of the Batcave. “Thanks, Alfred. See you later, Bruce.”

His father only hesitated a second before calling after them. “We should have dinner sometime soon.”

Jason looked slightly confused. Tim simply nodded. “Okay. Can we work out the details after the meeting this morning?”

Bruce clearly hadn’t remembered the meeting. 

“I’ll text you before it starts. Get some sleep!” Tim called back the last part just before he and his brother started up their motorcycles. They left the Batcave without any further ado. 

Bruce turned to Alfred. He looked concerned. “Sometimes I’m not sure if I raised him too well or made too many mistakes.” He looked back the direction his boys had left. “He shouldn’t be going to a meeting in a few hours.”

“Neither should you.” Alfred knew the younger man still would. Just as the boy he was worried over would. “I hardly think ‘do as I say, not as I do’ will work on Young Timothy.”

“Fair enough.” Bruce gave a small nod to conceded the point. Still, he looked pensive before turning back to Alfred. “So do you think he planned the whole thing once he found out the Wrath escaped or had some sort of contingency in mind for just such an occasion?”

Alfred gave that some thought. With Tim, it could very well have been either. The boy was a quick thinker, but he also liked to plan ahead for any number of variables. Some would call it paranoia. Alfred didn’t think that was right. Tim didn’t constantly expect such things to happen. 

In fact, he usually could tell you exactly what the odds of any such things happening were. It was just how he applied his mind to such problems. Coming up with contingency plans were like mind games he played when he was bored...assuming a mind like his ever experienced boredom. With how much seemed to be going on in there at any given time, it could be how he relaxed, which Alfred believed was a very sad thought. 

“I believe it was likely a bit of both, Sir. Master Tim probably had something in mind but narrowed down the specifics once he heard of the Wrath’s escape.”

“That sounds right.” Bruce sighed. He sat down in the chair at the Bat-Computer, where Alfred had been for most of the evening. “You know he has a contingency plan to take down nearly every member of the Justice League now? Just in case?”

Alfred arched a brow. “I suppose what they say is true then. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Bruce frowned at him. “That’s a little different. I’m part of the Justice League. I helped create it. That’s my responsibility, not his.”

“And there you have one of the main differences between yourself and Master Tim. You felt the need to police them from the beginning and then felt yourself responsible for what you perceived as your creation. Master Tim doesn’t need to be in control of anyone else, nor does he need to feel personally responsible. If he sees himself needed, he acts. He then trusts others to handle their end.” Alfred shot his adopted son a disapproving look as he made that last statement. 

Despite having a very acceptable excuse, he still didn’t think Bruce should have demanded the blood work earlier. He shouldn’t have insisted that he go to Blackgate himself. He should have trusted the boys that he helped train and raise to know what they were doing and to ask for assistance if they required it. 

“After all, isn’t that how we came to acquire Master Tim to begin with? He saw that you needed an intervention and so stepped in when everyone else failed to take care of the problem?” That had always been a key difference between Tim and Bruce’s other children. The others, Bruce had taken in because they needed him and he saw their potential and how it might be misused. Tim had come because _Bruce_ needed _him_. The boy came because he could see the man heading down the wrong path and wasting his own potential. 

Bruce considered that, and finally nodded. “He’s a problem solver. It shouldn’t be any surprise he’s already considered how to solve a problem like the Wrath. Jason’s a natural fighter. And a skilled tactician in his own right. With the two of them together…” 

He offered Alfred a small, indulgent smile. “You were right. I should have let them handle it. They had everything under control.”

Alfred put a hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him. “It is hard to let go, Sir. Especially when they’re at the age where you cannot let go entirely.”

Bruce nodded. “I didn’t expect it to be this rough.”

Alfred could understand that. He’d had even less control over Bruce when he was a teenager than Bruce had over Jason and Tim. “The trick here is in learning when to apply guidance and when to stand back and trust them to take care of it. _Or_ , to ask for assistance as they need it.”

The kids were better at that than their father. Although Alfred was happy that Bruce was getting better. Of course, that was mainly because his family had grown large enough for him to always have a child to call upon when he needed a hand. 

But there were also times when he was still stubbornly determined to do things his way. Alfred knew it was a futile effort, but he had to try to get the younger man to go to sleep. He felt like he spent half his life trying to get Bruce and his progeny to get something within the vicinity of enough sleep. “Is it too much to hope you plan to turn in now?” 

Bruce stood and tucked the SD card Tim had given him safely into his utility belt. “I’m going to drop this off with Jim first. The sooner he knows what’s happening at Blackgate, the sooner he can stop it. Then, I’ll come back.” He wore the smallest hint of a smile. “I promised Damian some training time today, so you know he’s going to be charging into my bedroom in a few hours to collect on that.”

“I could insist he do some of his school work first thing in the morning?” He would always offer, politely, even if Bruce never seemed to realize that allowing his household to go with only three or four hours of sleep often meant requiring Alfred to likewise give up several hours of rest. At his age, he was beginning to feel those missing hours more. It was, perhaps, the only thing he missed from when Dick had been wearing the cowl. Dick, at least, valued sleep when he could get it and insisted that Damian get a full eight hours unless the situation were dire. 

“That won’t be necessary, Alfred. Thank you.” Bruce smiled at him. “I’ll take the early shift with him. You get some rest. You’ll need it when Damian finds out I’m not letting him go patrolling tomorrow night since he’ll have gotten too little sleep today.”

Alfred arched a brow. “Or you could simply refuse to let him out of his room if he’s failed to get an adequate amount of sleep.”

“It won’t be the first time I’ve muddled through the day with only a few hours. At least a night of ballet followed by a short interrogation wasn’t particularly strenuous.” Bruce started heading toward the Batmobile. “Maybe a big breakfast in the morning, after training? Something to get us going?”

Sometimes Alfred was quite certain Bruce wouldn’t survive a month without him. “You need to eat something _before_ over exerting yourselves, Master Bruce. I’ll have some smoothies waiting. Then, a large breakfast when you’re through. Master Damian will know where to find them.” He’d made the same statement about putting nutrition first to the thirteen-year-old on several occasions. 

Damian now knew what order he needed to prioritize proper nutrition. Alfred would install a fitting sense of self care in that boy if it was the last thing he did. 

“Of course, Alfred.” Bruce had already pulled the cowl back on and was climbing into the Batmobile. “Get some sleep. You look tired.”

Alfred would have rolled his eyes if it hadn’t been undignified. Or if he’d had the energy. He poured himself another cup of tea and then applied his portable comm to his ear, so Bruce would be able to reach him immediately if he stopped to prevent a mugging or whatnot on his way home and ran into any trouble. Then he headed back upstairs, ensured that Damian was still asleep in bed, turned down Bruce’s room so he could simply stumble into bed when he returned, and then finally got ready for bed himself. 

His family, being who and what they each were, meant it took a good deal of work to keep them all functioning as their best selves. It meant a good deal of worrying. A good many sleepless nights. A good many missed opportunities. It also granted more opportunities. More moments of peace and joy. More people Alfred was willing to live or die for. 

He glanced at the photo on his bedside table. It was the one taken to use as a model for the most recent family portrait hanging in the living room. In the nightstand below, among other things, laid a photo album that contained many more pictures of his adopted son and grandchildren. At varying ages and performing various activities. Tiny moments, caught forever to remind him why he was going to be getting a total of five hours sleep that night if he was lucky. To remind him of why it was worth it. 

To remind Alfred that he had the best family in the world, and wouldn’t trade them for anything. 

Not that he ever needed it. He never forgot.


End file.
